We WHAT!
by Potato-kun and SakeHime
Summary: Congratulations, they were told. But how had this happened? Suddenly Harry Potter finds himself married to Blaise Zabini. HarryBlaise SLASH
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; I'm just borrowing him for my own amusement.

I don't own the flash video Banana Phone either.

"Warnings": Slash – if you don't like it, hit the back-button now. Weirdness. And annoying omakes. Bad grammar. (Hey, I'm Swedish, I can't be expected to know perfect english, but if you find any mistakes, please tell me, and I'll do my best to correct them until next time!) Err... Possible sexual situations.

Written by: Sakehime, seeing as Potato-kun still has no internet.

On to the story:

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_**Prologue**_

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Oh, no, no, no, no, no! This is far too much!

Not happening, not happening!

"Run, Potter", hisses the boy beside me through gritted teeth. I can tell he's bleeding, but he doesn't really seem to care – and neither do I, seeing as there are more important things to worry about right now.

Like the Death Munchers chasing us.

Damn, wasn't Hogwarts supposed to be a safe place! Nah, scratch that.

First year: A teacher with Voldemort sticking out of his head. Second year: The Chamber "Incident". Third year: Those blasted dementors! Fourth year: Moody Impostor, Triwizard Tournament and getting port-keyed to a graveyard to be used in a dark ritual to revive a certain old fart who calls himself a dark lord! Need I say more?

Yeah, scratch that – who the hell am I kidding! The day Hogwarts is safe is the day I abandon my whole identity to go live with the poor creatures that are going to be hamburgers at McDonalds! Hogwarts doesn't even need a dark lord to be dangerous! I mean, moving staircases, man-eating plants, not to mention Hagrid's "Fluffy", cute creatures. Lights a bulb somewhere, yes…?

"Oh for fuck's sake, Potter! Run already, you idiot!" bellows the guy in my ear, not caring if he's heard anymore. It's not like the Voldie-fans can't spot us, no rather the opposite, as one of them just shot a big notice-me charm at us. Simply put; it doesn't matter if it's late at night anymore, since where both glowing brightly like neon signs at a casino at night. Kind of hard not to notice, I'd say.

Hey, that guy is right! Running seems like a fairly good idea, right now. Ooh, did it take time for that to sink in or what?

And so I run, obviously.

Problem is, the other guy huffs, wheezes and stays where he is. Then he coughs up blood on the floor.

"Eew, gross!" I hear someone say. The voice sounds suspiciously much like Lucius Malfoy, and I cringe at its shrill tone. Oh, heaven help me – it's the wizarding version of Aunt Petunia!

No, I'm not going back. I want to live, thank you very much. Even if it as cowardly, and I'm dooming a year mate to a sure death, since he's in absolutely no condition to run. Of course not!

… Okay, so maybe I am. Curses to all Gryffindor traits!

I run back, and he laughs hysterically, screaming insults to me. How rude!

And suddenly I get this really bright idea – literally. A grin forms in my face, one of those insane and almost suicidal kinds of twitching grins.

The guy stops screaming insults and eyes me warily. Hehe, good instincts!

"So, Potty", taunts Lucius. Really, how original, I swear I haven't heard that one before! – And if you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic. Either Draco is a carbon copy of his father, or it's the other way around.

I don't hear the rest of what he's saying – it's probably not worth my time anyway. So I ignore him in favour of picking my wounded year mate up from the ground and hoist him up over my shoulder. He gives and indignant squeak and I assume he's glaring at me, but it doesn't really matter.

"Close your eyes if you know what's good for you", I tell him so quietly our company can't hear. Not wanting to waist any time by waiting for his reaction, I point my wand at my chest with the mad grin plastered onto my face.

With a single word, it suddenly seems like a smaller sun is burning there – me, that is – and the Death Eaters all cry out in surprise, blinded.

Handy little spell, that one. Invented it myself, and I'm quite proud of it. It's used to strengthen already used charms on objects – or people in this case.

A quick finishing spell later, I smile brightly – no pun intended – and am on my way away from there.

The boy gives a quiet "Oof!" from my shoulder as I start to run.

"You're mad, Potter!" he says in a half-assed attempt to insult me.

"Thank you", I say cheekily.

* * *

_Potter_ of all people! Why was _Potter_ wandering the corridors of Hogwarts at night? …Stupid question, he's a Gryffindor. They do stupid things. 

But more importantly, why exactly are we at Hogsmead? No, really!

I ask him about it.

"Hey, it's safer than Hogwarts, you know!"

I raise an eyebrow sceptically, although I know he can't see it. Strangely enough, he continues anyway…

"You know, after facing three-headed dogs, dragons, a dark lord and Dobby the house elf a couple of times, I'd hardly call Hogwarts safe. Oh… and did I mention a certain dark lord and his cute little Death Munchers?"

Okay, point taken… But he doesn't need to know that, so I keep quiet.

…I imagine we must look quite amusing with him running all over Hogsmead with a person almost thirty centimetres taller than himself over his shoulder. He's short, really. Really, really, really short. Or at least compared to me – his height is almost like a girl's. And Good Lord, he's thin too! I wonder how he manages to run around with me like I'm not heavier than a stuffed animal.

"Oh, fuck no!" he suddenly says, but as my bottom is up in the air, and my face buried in his backside, I really don't know what he's talking about. I'm not really sure I want to, though…

"I must have done something really bad in my previous life", he groans.

I snort. "No kidding."

"Shut up, I'm trying to think. Ooh, look at that! It's Lucy!"

Lucy? Who the heck is that?

"POTTER!" roars a familiar voice.

Oh. Lucius Malfoy. I should have known. Potter murmurs some spell I've never heard before and laughs before turning around to run again.

I lift my head slowly to see what he's laughing at.

And there is Lucius Malfoy, sputtering angrily, his black robes turned to a tight-fitting polka-dotted dress, and his hair turned neon pink. He's fumbling around, as if he can't see his surroundings. Confident that he's finally on the right way, he growls furiously, and starts running – straight into a wall.

I snigger, and so does Potter, while murmuring incoherent words about finding somewhere to hide.

Then he whoops in joy when he finds a slightly open door. He hurries inside quickly, and then sets me down on the ground.

Ouch, son of a bitch! That hurts! My arm is oozing blood.

"Oh!" exclaims a new voice. "I didn't expect any couples so soon! Are you here to seek my services?"

Distracted as we are, neither one of us really notices what he's saying.

"Safe for now", Potter murmurs quietly.

"Yeah"

"Oh, excellent! But it is late… Do you mind if I make the ceremony shorter than usual?"

"Do you think we'll be for much longer", I ask Potter in the same hushed voice, still not paying any attention to the third man.

"Nope", says the Gryffindor, a bit too loudly for my taste.

"Very well then! What are your names?"

"Blaise Zabini", I say absentmindedly, not caring about anything but the evil wizards out there, and I hear Potter give his name to the stranger, just as distractedly as I.

"Good, good! Then, do you, Harry Potter, take Blaise Zabini to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"They're still out there", I whisper quietly.

"Yes", says Potter louder than necessary.

"Good, good! Do you, Blaise Zabini take Harry Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Look, they're gone!" he hisses.

Of course – they want to catch us off-guard after all. I roll my eyes. "Obviously."

The third voice, had I thought about it, sounded positively giddy. "Then all you need to do is sign here!"

Potter signs the document without looking at it, still keeping his eyes trained one the door.

And before I even know what has happened, I have signed it too.

"Great!" the voice states, finally we both turn our eyes away from the door, when it doesn't seem like any of Voldemort's servants will pop up and Avada Kedavra us.

What I see is a small, fat man, rubbing some tears out of his eyes.

"Congratulations!"

"…What?" croaks Potter dazedly.

"You're married! As the first couple here, I'll insist you don't pay me! Oh isn't this simply beautiful?" he sniffs.

…Married?

…Now, wait a minute…

**_MARRIED?_**

"WHAT!" we shriek as one.

* * *

_SakeHime: _Short, yes I know. XD But it's only the prologue. (And a stupid extra.) 

I had this idea, and I just had to write it down. XD I don't know how much I'll update, but... hehe, reviews would help... ;;;

* * *

_OMAKE:_

"Um, what are we supposed to do with Malfoy?" asked a hesitant Death Eater.

"I dunno. We can sell him to a cosmetic company and buy butterbeers for the money…"

"Nah, no fun. Hey, you're both new recruits, right?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Well, here's what we do…"

The three Death Eaters started to whisper together and snickered occasionally.

Soon a fourth man joined them, whistling happily, while the rest of the bunch was searching for the escaped boys.

"Really, I'm starting to like that Potter! I've wanted to something like that to Malfoy for as long as I can remember!"

A while later:

"Okay, here we go!"

"On three! One… THREE!"

"Enervate!"

Lucius twitched and started to wake up.

"What the fuck" – was what he intended to say, but somehow, he just couldn't. It ended up coming out as:

"Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, Banana Phone!"

The four Death Eaters sniggered at the tune.

Lucius quickly closed his mouth and shut up, looking extremely furious.

"Hehe, look at your hair, Mr Malfoy", said the first one of them.

"And you lovely dress", added the second helpfully.

Malfoy complied, confusedly.

"RING RING RING RING RING RING RING, BANANA PHONE!" howled he in rage.

…

"Really, where did you get that?" asked one of the new recruits gleefully.

"Muggle flash-movies can be pretty good, you know", shrugged the older Death Eater and smirked.


	2. Married? To a guy?

_SakeHime: My brother stabbed me. T---T With a spoon._

…_Yeah, yeah – I suck. But honest, it isn't entirely my fault the update is late. I've had work to do, and a few mild thunderstorms managed to ruin the moment – and erase all the things I had written so far. So it's a bit rushed. _

_And that's what happened._

_Just to clear a few things up, since I forgot before, OotP happened, but Sirius didn't die. I simply love him too much to let him die. As for HBP, I didn't really like the book, which is why it didn't happen. _

Disclaimer and warnings: Read the first chapter.

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**Chapter one:**

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For a moment, the whole village went completely still, except for a few gusts of wind. The sunrays started to creep over the horizon, and a few people had emerged from their houses, but still nobody uttered one single word. It was almost comical how the sun rose at precisely the same time as our two favourite boys started to process the words they had heard.

It was a dazed Blaise Potter-Zabini who moved first. He ran outside, not caring if there were any Death Eaters left out there. Shortly after, he ran back inside, pale-faced and wide-eyed to face the equally shocked Harry Potter-Zabini.

Nevermind the fact that he wasn't supposed to be able to run in the first place.

"Potter, this is a … a -"

"Open-minded church", the bouncy little man filled in happily. "Or rather a church-like office. We marry both straight and homosexual couples."

Harry stared blankly.

Blaise glared.

The man smiled in oblivious happiness.

Then chaos broke lose.

"_I'M MARRIED?" _shrieked Harry. "_HARRY BLOODY POTTER MARRIED__TOO A GUY?"_

"Bloody brilliant, Potter", muttered Blaise.

"That's Potter-Zabini", corrected the priest dreamily.

Peeking out from the opening in the door, they both saw how nightgown-clad-ladies in all ages, from four year olds to old hags started to pour out from the buildings in a rapid stream of tears, curses and rage.

"Did you hear that?" a girl asked what appeared to be her mother, who resembled a wet tomato above anything else. The red-faced, tear-stricken woman nodded.

"_My life is over!" _wailed a teenager somewhere when it was clear that everyone had heard the loud voice.

"Mama, didn't you tell me I could marry him when I grow up?" asked a small girl, staring accusingly at her mother, who was to busy trying to claw her eyes out to even notice.

And Harry, in a massive fit of rage attempted to choke the poor little man who had joined them to death, but as said little man thought no evil of anyone, he thought it was a misplaced hug of joy, decided to "hug back", and squealed loudly.

In the masses of lamenting females, Blaise even managed to spot a few Death Eaters – who also seemed to dislike the fact that their lord's arch enemy was not single anymore. They quickly disappeared, however, as the brothers, fathers and men of the crying women abandoned their beauty-sleep to unsuccessfully try to sooth the raging females.

In the office, Harry had finally given up on strangling the little man, and started to laugh insanely instead.

Suddenly the crowd turned to face the three males in the door opening.

Blaise smiled a crooked and creepy smile. And then he pointed a single finger towards the cause of his and the other boy's misery.

"He's the one to blame", he stated simply.

The crowd roared angrily. The sound of cracking knuckles was heard, sleeves were rolled up and wands started to conjure up pitch-forks.

As Harry and Blaise swiftly made their way out of the village, the angry people proceeded to maul the little priest.

It was like sweet music to their ears.

* * *

"So, why exactly were you in the hallway in the middle of the night?" asked Harry, bored out of his mind after hiding in a tree with Zabini for three hours for the sole purpose of avoiding those prowling fans of his.

"None of your business, _husband dearest._"

"If you say so."

After a moment of silence, Blaise added: "And if it wasn't for you, I'd never be in this mess."

Harry snorted. "No, you'd probably be in the deepest shit you'd ever encounter instead."

Blaise growled threateningly, causing the green-eyed boy to arch an eyebrow.

"It's true."

"Sod off."

Another few moments of mind-eating silence flew by.

"They wanted you to join, huh…" It was more a statement than a question.

Blaise looked none too happy.

"I was trying to forget that."

"So sorry."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?"

Harry shrugged indifferently. "If you want to. But it's not like I care if you don't."

"Potter. Just shut up."

"Oh the wit. How creative. …Well I don't know about you, but I'm bored."

"I'm not. So kindly stop talking to me."

Silence.

Ooh, how Harry hated it.

"Rita Skeeter will have a field day with this", he muttered under his breath.

Apparently his unwilling companion found this extremely annoying, if his tense twitching was anything to go by. But hey, Harry didn't mind – after all it was amusing to watch. He wondered how long it would take for Zabini to snap.

"Oh well. Always look on the bright side of life." Softly humming, he started counting leaves, but unfortunately he always seemed to get a bit lost after fifteen.

"Potter… _FOR THE BLOODY LOVE OF MERLIN, SHUT UP! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOUR GUTS, I HATE YOUR HAIR AND I EVEN HATE YOUR BLOODY OWL!_ IT'S _YOUR_ FAULT I'M MARRIED BEFORE I'M EVEN EIGHTEEN, IT'S _YOUR_ FAULT MALFOY JUNIOR IS SUCH A PRISSY JERK –"

Harry snickered. "And it's my fault Lucius Malfoy is dress in an irremovable polka-dotted dress, singing muggles songs. I'm proud of all those things you listed. Deal with it."

"… Huh? Oh. Err…Just shut up and LISTEN! YOU DON'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH MY FAMILY EVERY YEAR! YOU DON'T HAVE A FUCKING GRANDFATHER WHO WON'T ACKNOWLEDGE YOU JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT A GIRL AND TRIED TO DRESS YOU UP IN PINK TUTUS WHEN YOU WERE A LITTLE BOY! AND YOU DON'T HAVE A MOTHER WHO SHOWS UP WITH TWO DIFFERENT GUYS EVERY WEEK JUST TO STEAL THEIR MONEY AND WANTS YOU TO JOIN THE DEATH EATERS AND DO THE SAME WHEN YOU GROW UP!"

"No, I don't", stated Harry calmly, although he was a bit miffed at the weirdness of the Slytherin's family.

"SO WHAT WOULD YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"I don't."

Blaise hyperventilated a bit before continuing more calmly.

"You're obviously insane – that's something the ministry is right about for once."

"Like I said; I'm quite proud of it too."

"… And you probably live a pampered life with you muggle family. You have everything one could possibly want. Fame, wealth, power! And you act like a spoilt brat –" Blaise was so caught up in his rant that he didn't notice the other boy gradually paling. "– You have true friends who care about you! Do you even know what I would give for that? And then, even though your life was perfect, you just had to go and revive the Dark Lord and get a student killed!"

Harry didn't know what to think. Was this really the image people had of him? Sure, he probably should be used to it by now, but it still stung, no matter how many times he had told himself he was over it. There had been so many times he was told he was a worthless piece of shit, ever since he first showed signs of understanding words. When he was five years old, it was deeply ingrained in him, and he even thought of his relatives as generous, when they gave him that cupboard under the stairs as his own room. He was a waste of space after all. And now, apparently, this was the general view of him.

Back when he first set his foot in the wizarding world, he had been so happy. He had a right to be there, and he even had an opportunity to make friends. It was like a paradise to him. But already by the end of his first year at Hogwarts, he realized this world was imperfect, just like the muggle one. However, it was where he belonged, so he shrugged it off and ignored the fact that there were pieces of information missing everywhere.

Then things became worse and worse, and after the vivid nightmares from the graveyard in Little Hangleton, where Cedric died… When Dumbledore told him the full contents of the prophecy concerning him, something just… broke.

In a way, he guessed, he really was insane.

His green eyes hardened.

"Don't speak about things you don' know."

* * *

Since when was Potter this scary? Blaise almost shivered as the other boy lifted his penetrating green eyes to glare at him. In there, he saw a glimpse of the insanity he had accused Potter of.

No doubt, he wouldn't ever want the green-eyed wonder his enemy, even if he already was considered one of them.

"I'm sorry", he said quietly.

"Aren't we all?" whispered Potter cynically.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Potter merrily.

Blaise thought it was scary how fast the boy shifted moods, but didn't mention anything out of fear of revenge.

"I don't know", he said and scowled. He wasn't about to show Potter that he actually was a bit scared of him.

"I mean, now that I think about it, it's as simple as getting a divorce, you know?" the other boy said, ignoring Blaise completely.

Blaise growled.

"Have you read any wizarding laws at _all_, Potter?"

"No, why?"

Was this idiot really the saviour of the world? He didn't know _anything_!

"According to law number 143.2a the only way a couple could get a legitimate divorce is if spousal abuse occurs! And I'm not about to get mauled by the whole world for laying a hand on their precious Boy-Who-Lived! And I'm sure you don't want to tarnish you reputation any further, seeing as this would be all over the media in one blink!"

"Damn."

"You're taking this far too lightly, Potter."

"That's Potter-Zabini", the boy imitated the cause of their misery.

"Do you want to get slapped that badly?"

"At least it would solve this situation."

One could think that the two boys would have something better to do than argue, but at least it got the time to pass. The first mutual agreement that day had been that they would avoid Hogsmead at all costs when going back to Hogwarts, even if it meant passing through the Forbidden Forest. Harry didn't seem too worried about that part, but when Blaise thought about Harry's mental state, he couldn't help but feel anxious.

Was Harry Potter some kind of thrill junkie? It certainly seemed like that.

"Besides", asked the scarred boy, "why do they pass out stupid laws like that?"

"Maybe because they're not used to people getting married by mistake?" Blaise suggested and rolled his eyes. "… Seriously, I think they want people to think about the consequences of the magical bindings before the do it. If people got married on a whim all the time, the whole wizarding world would consist of people who all hated each other."

"Makes sense."

"Yes", agreed Blaise. "About the only thing too."

Suddenly the presence of the celebrity on his side didn't seem so annoying anymore.

* * *

Just inside of the school gates, a furious Potions Master was waiting for them.

"_POTTER!" _Severus Snape roared, reminding Harry of the snappish Hungarian Horntail he had faced in the Triwizard Tournament. "_Where in the name of Merlin have you two been?"_

"Hell", muttered Zabini. Harry couldn't agree more, despite his seemingly carefree reactions.

"What he said", said he.

"Detention, Potter. Two weeks, for your rudeness. And one hundred points from Gryffindor for your disappearance."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Professor, this is what happened", Zabini interrupted smoothly before the professor had a chance to explode. "The Death Eaters somehow got into the dorm where I was sleeping, probably via portkey. My esteemed mother probably told them it was time for me to join or some crap like that, and when I refused they dragged me out in the halls, where Potter for some reason had decided to take a midnight stroll –"

"Hey, I was hungry! I was on my way to the kitchens!"

"Yeah, I'm sure you were. Anyway, the Death Eaters threatened with throwing me out of a window from the astronomy tower if I didn't join, and that's when Potter came in. That git actually saved me, so the punishment is unfair."

"Thank you!" Harry grinned.

Zabini glared at him.

Snape scowled darkly. "Very well. You will still have one detention with Filch, however. Both of you. And Potter – ten points from Gryffindor for sneaking around after curfew."

The two boys shifted uncomfortably.

"Is there more?" asked Snape with narrowed eyes.

"Uh…" said Blaise.

"Err…" said Harry.

Then they both took a deep breath.

"We… sort of got married!" they said in unison.

The Potions Master stared incredulously at them for a minute or two.

"_YOU WHAT_?"

* * *

_OMAKE:_

The Dark Lord was not in a good mood. He had sent his whole inner circle, minus Severus Snape out to get the Zabini boy and possibly get some information. And they failed. A few well-placed Cruciatus curses helped relieve his stress greatly. But now he was not sure anything would.

His scaly eyebrows twitched dangerously.

"_What did you say he called me?" _hissed he.

The Death Eater gulped. "… H-he c-c-called y-you… _Ickle Voldie-kins, _m-my Lord."

"_Crucio._"

Then came the worst. Lucius Malfoy was brought in.

His favourite Death Eater was clad in a polka-dotted dress – which Voldemort actually thought was completely fine – and hot pink hair – which he most certainly didn't think was fine.

"Ring ring ring ring ring, banana phone", sobbed Lucius.

Lord Voldemort's nostrils flared.

"Who is responsible for this?" he asked.

A Death Eater reluctantly pointed a finger at a certain rat animagus, who stood in the back of the room, playing with a few bits of cheese.

"He didn't guard him like he should."

"Wormtail?"

Peter Pettigrew looked up goofily. "Yes, my Lord?"

"_Crucio."_

_

* * *

_

_SakeHime: Again, it's pretty short, but… yeah._


	3. Kitty!

SakeHime_: So I started writing this chapter as soon as I had posted the last chapter. I think I've given up on actually thinking about what I write, since it seems that my best ideas and choices of words come when I don't think at all. It's kind of like being in trance. (snorts)_

…_Oh, and somebody shoot me now! The only reason I'm even able to update is because I'm sick. You know why? Because my room is without electricity for the time being, and as I'm sick, I can't go to school – and we're currently remaking the entire bathroom, which just happens to be situated next to my room – so I've had time to bother my parents about moving the computer to another room. _

… _How ironic, considering the contents of this chapter._

_Really, just shoot me now and put me out of my misery._

_Thanks. Oh, and Potato-kun says hello._

_Disclaimers and warning: Read the first chapter. (AKA the prologue.)_

**PwettyBorder **

**Chapter two:  
**

"You WHAT?"

"Got married", said Zabini nervously.

Snape froze. Slowly, slowly, his face turned into a shade of red which even Harry's uncle Vernon would be proud of. It wasn't a beautiful sight.

"_You two. My office. NOW!"_ the professor grounded out through gritted teeth.

Harry gave a sigh of relief. No more points had been lost…

"Oh, and _Potter_…"

…Oh no…

"_One hundred points from Gryffindor! And detention for the rest of the year!"_

"Yes, Professor", he said meekly.

**PwettyBorder**

Professor Severus Snape, known as the slightly sadistic Potions Master at the famous school Hogwarts, also often called an overgrown bat or even less flattering things, was having a bad day. He was currently busy reducing his expensive carpet to a thin mess of threads with his pacing.

"Dibby!" he barked.

With a pop, a small creature clad in a pillow case appeared. Its large tennis ball-like eyes gleamed in the dark.

"What is Master Snape sir wishing?" asked the house-elf curiously, not being used to the greasy-haired man calling for her unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Get me a bottle of firewhisky."

"Yes, Master Snape sir!"

With that, she popped out of his rooms again, only to appear again with the requested drink.

"That will be all Dibby. Thank you."

"Dibby is happy to be helping."

A second later he was alone again.

"Damn that Potter", he muttered tiredly and took a small sip of the alcohol.

The next morning would be filled with howlers, he was sure. Oh, and the prissy Malfoy junior would bawl his eyes out, for many different reasons, one being his father's current state of dress and ridiculous singing. Personally, Severus thought this was the best thing the snotty scar-headed brat had ever come up with, although he'd rather bite his tongue off than admit that it had amused him greatly when Lucius tumbled out of his fireplace dressed in drag, singing muggle songs. Actually, it had made his day – until he found out who the culprit was, that is. But even then it was just too funny to ignore.

Lucius had waved a big parchment around with big pink letters – that was because Potter somehow had succeeded in spelling Lucius' fingers to transfigure ever quill he touched into pink lipsticks – that said "POTTER DID IT!"

Severus had had to use all his skills in occluding his mind to not laugh right into the Death Eater's face. It was with some mild curiosity he had tried to remove the well-placed charms, but in the end he had ended up sending his so called "friend" back through the fireplace and advised him not to be seen.

But about the Potter brat…

Severus grabbed his bottle of firewhisky with a deep snarl and chugged its burning contents down.

That moronic Gryffindor managed to get out of trouble again, with just a few lost points for actually being out in the corridors at night. But then again, the headmaster had looked disappointedly at Severus and promptly awarded the boy-wonder two hundred points for his so called "heroic actions". Severus preferred to call it stupidity.

At the very least, both boys should have had points taken for not being aware of their surroundings and putting the Hogwarts staff members in a tight situation.

But Dumbledore's eyes had merely twinkled brightly, and McGonagall smiled smugly with her thin lips.

Something about a great chance of making the Slytherins and Gryffindors get along better was said.

Severus himself held no illusions that it would ever happen, but…

Damn that McGonagall.

Damn those boys.

And most of all – damn the headmaster's twinkling eyes and drugged lemon drops.

**PwettyBorder**

"I still can't believe it!" said Blaise in shock. "We got out of trouble just like that!" He snapped his fingers. "And you even got your damn big ego stroked. If your head fits through the next door opening, I'll be surprised, Potter."

Two boys were walking side by side towards the Hogwarts kitchens to grab some food.

Harry shrugged and grinned mischievously. "All you need to do is give them the look of a wounded puppy, really. It works every time!"

The darker boy scoffed.

"Only when you just happen to be the glittering icon of the wizarding world."

"No, no! It's because they like me!"

Harry pouted, which was oddly… cute… in Blaise's eyes.

"There's not much difference."

The green-eyed boy growled. "But there is!"

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"No, not really."

"Is too!"

By now, they had reached the painting that was the entrance to the kitchens. Blaise's stomach made a rumbling noise, and he eagerly tickled the painted pear that would open the door. Immediately, the house elves were upon him asking if there was something they could help him with.

He ordered some pancakes, and started to turn back to his husband with a smirk.

"Actually, Potter… Why do you think they even started to like you in the first place?"

There was no answer.

"Potter?"

Harry groaned quietly.

"Uh-oh… Oh no… I hate this…" said he faintly.

_Thud. _

One unconscious Harry Potter lay on the floor.

"_Potter!_"

**PwettyBorder**

When Harry awoke, he had a pounding headache. Vaguely, he recognized the white ceiling of the infirmary. Then there was a blob of colour hanging over his head, which probably was the head of the school nurse. Oh, and something that looked scarily much like a syringe…

_Syringe? Needle_!

No, no, no! Harry Potter was not fond of needles! Ever since Dudley stuck one under his nails when he was five years old, he had absolutely hated them. The memory of the pain and cold steel under his skin still made him shiver…

Syringe! Needle! _Danger!_

As dazed as Harry was, he didn't notice when his bones shrank and his skin got covered with fur. He did, however, hear Poppy Pomfrey shriek. Wincing at the loud noise, he shrank even further. When he was finished changing, Harry realized he had transformed into his animagus form instinctively.

Really, he was lucky his vision was perfect in this form, no matter how bad his human form had it.

He mewled softly at the medi-witch and stared into her eyes with his eerily green ones.  
Slowly, her eyes began to get clouded, and soon she fell onto his bed in a bony, unconscious heap.

Harry purred in satisfaction. She would not remember any of this when she awoke.

Still a bit foggy in the head, Harry rolled out of his the bed and landed on the floor, soft paws barely making a sound.

Just as the nurse started to get up and look around in confusion, Harry's slim, black form rounded the corner and disappeared into the shadows.

It had many perks, his animagus form. While it wasn't a strong animal, it was fast, and he could fly too if he wanted to. Plus, there was this spiffy power to hypnotize people and remove their recent memories, which meant no one would ever know it was him unless he wanted to make himself known. Even the headmaster, who had supervised his animagus training didn't have a clue anymore.

Though, what Harry liked the best was that he could blend into the shadows very nicely too, and that this also had transferred to his human body. To make even better use of it, he often made himself appear as clumsy, so that it most of the time was glaringly obvious where he was.

One day he'd laugh into both Dumbledore's and Moldy-Voldy's faces.

Then, there was the exciting possibility he had asked McGonagall about one day. Some people had more than one inner animal, apparently, but since the Ministry of Magic forbid users to have more than one form, not many people knew about this fact. And since no one knew he even was an animagus to begin with, he could ask the Professor for help to find his other form or forms.

Sirius would be so proud…

Suddenly, he ran right into someone's leg.

"Ooh, look! It's a kitty."

_I'm a nightcat! A nightcat! _He wanted to tell the person furiously, but it came out as a hiss.

He lifted his eyes just as a pair of pale hands picked him up from the floor.

Staring at him was Pansy Parkinson's delighted face.

Harry screeched in terror.

"Ooh my, what a cutie", crooned the pug-faced girl, making Harry consider throwing up hair-ball at her robes.

He felt ill.

"And you've got the cutest greenest eyes I've ever seen, did you know that? Draco's going to melt, I just know it."

Harry mewed pathetically, too distracted to even think about hypnotizing the girl into forgetting him.

"And you're in luck, you know! I just got new pink ribbons in a packet from my Grandma. They don't really suit me, but they'll look sooo good on you, hun…"

_Nooooooooooooo!_

One last attempt was frantically made at escaping, but Parkinson didn't seem to mind that her expensive robes were in pieces.

Harry fainted.

**PwettyBorder**

"What do you have there, Pansy?" asked Blaise curiously.

He had gone down to his safe dungeons after dropping his husband off in the Hospital Wing. The greens and silvers of the common room were very comforting to him, even though originally was here he had been kidnapped.

It felt like home, he guessed.

But now, this was odd. A bit of black fur could be seen in his year mates arms, but her torn sleeves – another strange thing – hid the rest whatever it was pretty effectively. Suddenly a black, swishing tail poked its way up, escaping the girl's strong embrace.

_Aha_, thought Blaise.

"It's a kitten!" Pansy giggled, opening her arms enough to reveal a disgruntled fur-covered face. "Isn't it cute?"

Blaise smiled a little. "That it is. Is it a male or female?"

"Ooh, I haven't checked yet. Wait a minute…"

The animal screeched in protest as the girl pried its legs apart. Blaise almost thought it looked embarrassed, but really… It was just a cat.

"It's a boy", she stated happily.

Blaise nodded.

There was something familiar with it…

"I can't really wait to try the ribbons on it!"

"_Mreow!"_

Those green cat-eyes stared pleadingly at Blaise, who sighed.

"Pansy, is it even your cat?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Um, I found him wandering the halls… And he doesn't have a collar. Why?"

"Use your brain. Some first year might be crying for him somewhere."

Pansy pouted. Unlike Potter, it didn't look one bit cute on her.

"But I want to keep it!" she whined.

Then Blaise noticed that the cat was trembling.

"Give it here, Pansy", he ordered her calmly.

"Why?"

"Just look at it! It's sick, you idiot!"

Pansy gave him the cat and fled.

**PwettyBorder**

Something was warm. Harry liked warmth…

He snuggled closer to the heat, quickly falling asleep after letting out one cat-like sneeze.

**PwettyBorder**

A soft murmur came from Blaise's lips. The soft fur of the animal warmed his skin, where it laid.

The tiny weight against his chest felt quite comforting after the stress that day brought, he had to admit. …Even if it was shivering and tickling him with its tail, which seemed to have a life of its own. Not that he was ticklish, mind you.

He only hoped he wouldn't suddenly start sneezing out hairballs, as the long thing poked him in the nose a bit too many times. What business the tail had there, he didn't want to know, but it still found its way there, and it was a bit annoying.

Now, Blaise Zabini didn't know much about cats, but this one seemed sick. A bit feverish, perhaps…

_Just like Potter._

…_Who is in the infirmary._

_Okay, stop thinking about him._

Gently, he petted the cat's fur. It purred, still asleep.

Blaise chuckled.

However, his amusement didn't last long. Unhappy thoughts quickly pushed it away

What would his mother have to say about all of this? Would she see it as a great opportunity, disown him, run straight to the Dark Lord and tell him, or would she do something entirely different. Either way, Blaise was sure he wouldn't like it… Because he never liked anything his mother did. He didn't even like her as person.

And what would his relatives say? Probably nothing good.

How well would his dorm mates take it? Draco was sure to flip, Crabbe and Goyle would publicly go with whatever Malfoy chose to do, but might do and say something entirely different behind closed doors. Theodore Nott was an unknown card.

Pansy Parkinson would either shriek with delight or chide him for his bad taste, depending of what her parents thought. Millicent Bulstrode…

Blaise shivered.

She would murder either him or Harry in a very extreme way. …Or both. Because she had had a crush on him for as long as he could remember – she even used to sit on him in their first year, just to make sure he didn't run away. But then Pansy told her that that wasn't the way to catch a man.

Thank Merlin for Pansy.

…Since when did he call Potter Harry?

The cat in his arms mewled quietly, and Blaise had to smile again.

It seemed to be waking up.

"Hey there", he murmured.

The cat yawned and stretched a bit, as much as Blaise's arms allowed it to.

With a sigh, Blaise tickled the animal's belly mischievously.

He had never seen a cat like that before. Its tail seemed to change length all the time, and the fur was so soft he wasn't sure if it really was fur. It was like it hade been spun of dreams, the same material that was used for invisibility cloaks.

But there were more important things to take care of.

In deep thought, he rose from the comfortable couch he had been sitting on, wrote a quick not saying not to touch the cat, as it was a bit feverish and left to go to the loo.

**PwettyBorder**

Five minutes later, he was back in the common room, but the cat wasn't there anymore. Instead, he found a very dizzy-looking Harry Potter in the very same couch.

He hoped Potter hadn't sat on the poor animal, or anything equally stupid. Although it would be kind of hard not to notice when it when it clawed him in the ass.

The thought of Potter's ass was oddly appealing.

"What are you doing here?" he asked tiredly. "How do you even know how to get here in the first place?"

Harry managed to look somewhat composed when he heard the unexpected voice, even if it was clear he hadn't heard the darker boy coming.

"Oh wouldn't you like to know", said he lightly.

"Figures he would say that", muttered Blaise. "Aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary?"

"Yeah, I am supposed to be there. But I can't really stand the nasty potions madam Pomfrey shoves down my throat every time I'm there. Plus she had a syringe, and I don't like needles." Here, he shuddered. "So I escaped."

Just as Blaise was about to say something in reply, Malfoy suddenly came barging in.

"Ah, Zabini, there you are! I just got some juicy news from my…"

"That's Potter-Zabini", muttered Harry.

Draco stilled. Then he turned around. And pointed on accusing finger at Blaise. Then took ten deep breaths…

And exploded.

"_What in the Seven Bloody Hells is that_ filth _doing here?"_

Blaise shrugged. "I don't know. Potter, what _are _you doing here?"

Harry smiled goofily and patted the couch. "Relaxing. Isn't it obvious?"

The arrogant blond sneered. "Well, _don't. _Wrong common room."

Harry snickered. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Malfoy."

Draco bristled. "_Now listen damn closely, Potter… I am_ not _wearing knickers!"_

"Really? Do you go commando, then? …Anyway, there's no rule that says you can't visit other common rooms once in a while."

"True", Blaise agreed, just to piss the prissy prat off.

"And besides…" Harry started.

Blaise didn't quite like his tone.

"I'm also here to visit my husband!"

Malfoy looked at them both incredulously.

Blaise groaned.

"And if you don't like it, piss off. Go back to your halfblood master and help him cure your father", Harry finished brightly.

Malfoy screamed like a girl and fled.

Blaise sighed.

"Did you have to do that?"

Harry grinned. "He was going to find out sooner or later anyway." Then he laughed. "All you have to say is halfblood in the same sentence as Voldemort for Malfoy to go mad and flee", continued he smugly. "It's actually quite funny that my blood is purer than the oh-so-scary Dark Lord. I'm a first generation pureblood, and he is just a mere halfblood, and yet he cares more blood purity than me."

"Potter, you're not only insane. You're suicidal too."

It was hard to admit, but the insanity of The Saviour left Blaise slightly awed – until Harry coughed violently, that is.

"No, not really."

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Of course not. Now about the cat that was around here… It's a very rare species, so it would be a shame if it didn't survive. Did you see it?"

Harry blushed.

"Oh, that. That was me."

Blaise froze.

"What?"

"That was me."

"Oh bugger you, Potter! I thought I finally had found something interesting!"

"And I'm not?"

"No, you aren't."

"Yay!"

"You're just too damn weird."

"Thanks!"

Harry bowed.

"Why exactly did you faint, by the way?"

"Huh?"

"Before, you know. When we went to the kitchens?"

"Oh, that… Well, it was magical overloading. Delayed by adrenaline for a couple of hours, and not very dangerous, but it sure is tiring…"

"I didn't see you doing any heavy magic out there."

"I didn't. But it drains me a whole lot every time I have to make up a new spell at the spot."

Blaise stared. "New spell? You're a spellcrafter?"

"Sort of. But not really…"

"…Okay, so what did you do?"

"A sing-song spell", laughed Harry.

"Is that why Lucius Malfoy is singing such a ridiculous song every time he opens his mouth?"

Harry looked at Blaise chidingly.

"But of course. I thought you were smart."

He coughed again.

A tiny bit concerned, Blaise put one hand at the other boy's scarred forehead.

"You're burning up! What was it like last time you did this?"

Harry smiled, a bit dazed.

"Oh, this is pretty light. Last time, I had a fever at fifty nine degrees Celsius."

"_YOU WHAT?_"

**PwettyBorder**

_SakeHime: Okay, I'm exhausted. Almost one third of this, I wrote in two hours, today. But hey! I'm done. So please, please, please give me some reviews? (big, big, pleading eyes)_

_Please? Even id the chapter is rushed and boring? Please?_

_ **...PwettyBorder...**_

_OMAKE:_

"Checkmate", said Wormtail, since Lucius couldn't properly open his mouth without singing those horrendous muggle songs.

Had the Dark Lord Voldemort had eyebrows, they would have twitched.

"_Which one of you were responsible for this move?" _he hissed.

Lucius looked smug, but pointed one finger at Peter Pettigrew anyway.

Inwardly, Voldemort chuckled.

_How utterly Slytherin of you, Lucius._

"Wormtail?" asked the Dark Lord sweetly.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"_Crucio."_


	4. Oh dear, I think they found out

_SakeHime: Before I write anything else... to the anonymous reviewer (I'm writing a reply here, as I never got the e-mail address so I could send my oh-so- witty reply there!) who made that lovely remark about how he or she didn't think I understood that 59 Celsius is 138.2 Fahrenheit, well I understand that quite enough, thank you very much. I don't know what exactly it is you want to achieve with a comment like that. If it's to tell me to use the Fahrenheit system instead, then the answer is no, as I am brought up with the Celsius system. If you just think I'm being ridiculous with what I'm writing, well that's the point. And there's a twist. This is a humour story, after all! (winks and gives the Mysterious Reviewer a cookie for taking the time to point it out for me anyway.) _

_So I'll simply take this as an opportunity to help all of the people who aren't used to the Celsius system (If there are any), because that is the one I am going to use in this fic. So here's a link, generously provided by the Anonymous Reviewer!_

http// www. wbuf. noaa. gov/ tempfc. htm

_Just remember to remove the spaces!_

See chapter one for Disclaimers and Warnings!

_And on to the story!_

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

* * *

"YOU WHAT?"

"Hey, I'm just kidding!" Harry rolled his eyes. "It's not even possible, you know. I'd be dead."

"I knew that", muttered Blaise.

"Sure you did."

Harry coughed.

"Shut up and go to sleep, Potter."

While the Boy Who Lived did seem a bit sick at first, after a couple of hours consisting mostly of him sleeping and Blaise fending of annoying Slytherins, he was up and bouncing around like a rubber-snitch.

Luckily, he had yet to see Millicent Bulstrode.

"Potter", he called tiredly, just as the boy finished traumatizing another third-year Slytherin for life with his hyper-ness, oddly cheerful sarcastic comments and tales of the time he caught Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape at it in the headmaster's office. It was of course a lie, but that didn't help the mental images that came along with the story.

"Call me Harry, I'm your husband!" shouted he back lazily.

Blaise scowled at him.

"Well, _Harry_, come here, would you?"

The third-year fled with a small frightened, but relieved squeal, and Harry happily bounded over to Blaise's couch.

"What, husband dearest?"

Blaise was glad he wasn't the type to blush, because the comment got him very flustered for some reason. He lifted an eyebrow, trying to ignore it.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice one thing", he started and Harry looked expectantly at him. "You said you had invented a sing-song curse Lucius Malfoy never started singing when we were there; I only heard Snape mutter about it afterwards..."

Harry grinned widely, and bent closer to whisper into Blaise's ear.

_Ignore it, Zabini! Come on, you're not supposed to this easily distracted, right? Not by a boy! … Oh, Merlin, he's so close!_

"That's because I did the spell-work on a piece of paper that I soaked in my magic before, and spelled it so that a person with a strong dislike of Malfoy would pick it up while I was running. Then I wrote a quick note on it with the incantation and a brief description of what the spell would to, and then the recommendation to use it on Lucius Malfoy. That means that the person who picked it up had access to one spell-casting to use without even needing to learn the correct wand-movements before it, and without any drain on his or her personal magic."

"Huh?"

Harry sighed and explained again.

Blaise nodded thoughtfully. "That explains that. But how come you were so exhausted a few hours later?"

Harry looked surprised. "You don't know?"

"No, if I did, I would not ask."

"Well, somewhere in the Ministry, there is a book with every new spell since the time of the witch-burnings, although it only contains spells from English crafters. So every time a new spell is created, a large part of the creator's magic is used to transport it into the book, with complete records of the perfect wand-movements, how to best pronounce the incantation, the name the creator goes by for the moment, and a chunk of magic also goes into protecting the book from destruction. I thought you would know that, since you're from a wizarding family…"

Blaise snorted. "But as I don't come from a family of spell-crafters, there's absolutely no point in me knowing such a thing. But that book… it sounds stupid. What if there was a dangerous curse and the wrong person found it?"

"I wouldn't worry about that. I think it's in the deepest level of the Department of Mysteries. Even MortDeVol would loose a couple of limbs before reaching that level, and he's too fond of them to do that – and too much of a coward. Normally, I think anyway, it's only the boss of the unspeakables that has access to it."

"Then that's good." Blaise nodded firmly. "Why do you know so much about it anyway?"

Harry smiled a bit. "How many spells do you think I've invented? I got a bit suspicious when I still got as exhausted after the twelfth one, so I went to the library and researched every bit I could. Took me three months, but it was worth it as I got my explanation without even needing to ask anyone."

"I see. What is the incantation to the sing-song curse?" Blaise asked and smiled.

"Sing!" said Harry smugly, causing Blaise to stare at him in disbelief.

"That easy?"

"Yup, that easy! But it includes wand-movements that look so ridiculous that most wizards would rather lose an arm than performing. And they're quite complicated too!"

"How ridiculous?"

Harry smirked and demonstrated.

Blaise blushed.

Then Harry suddenly stumbled and fell.

The wand snapped in two.

Blaise stared.

Harry looked at it in disbelief.

"Just what I needed", said he dejectedly.

* * *

Harry sat with his friends at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall., somewhat amused that they had no clue about what had occurred yet. 

Seamus Finnegan flashed him a suggestive smile, to which he gave an inquiring look. Across the table, Dean Thomas swatted the Irish boy's head forcefully.

"Don't think too much about it Harry, he's just heard about how you weren't in any of the girl's dormitories last night."

Oh. So that was it.

… They believed he was gay?

_Haha, they should know!_

"Yes, and?" he asked, pretending to be completely oblivious.

Seamus gave him a rather pointed look.

"So who's your mysterious lover?"

"Huh? I don't have one… I didn't last time I checked anyway."

Scratching his chin, he grinned inwardly at his dorm mate's unbelieving expression.

_It's true. But I do have a husband!_

"So…" started Seamus slowly, "…are you straight or curvy?"

Here, Hermione decided to butt in.

"He's definitely more flashing gay than even Elton John in a flamingo suit", said she with a superior smirk.

"Huh?" said Harry, wide-eyed. Where did that come from?

Ginny joined the conversation.

"Yep, it's true! He didn't even bat an eye when he accidentally opened the door to her dormitory without knocking."

"Huh?" said Ron and Harry as one, though Ron's voice sounded slightly muffled with the end of a sausage sticking out of his mouth. (Err…Get your minds out of the gutter!)

Ginny sighed.

"And she was undressed, alright!"

"Ginny!" shouted Hermione. Her cheeks were redder than a tomato.

"Oh, that!" chirped Harry brightly. "I thought it would be rude both to turn away and stand there and stare at her, because if I turned away it could be interpreted as disgust, and I didn't want that, but still if I stood there and stared, it would be quite rude too, I thought, so I made a compromise and just looked blankly at her!"

"Mate, you're…" began Neville nervously, joining them at the table after listening to their rather loud conversation. But he never got to finish, as the girl's in the company both glared at Harry in a way that would make any sane man scared.

Harry was not even the slightest bit sane, but he was scared anyway.

"That doesn't help one bit", muttered Ginny darkly.

Hermione growled and scooted closer to the red-haired girl, no doubt to whisper menacing plans of revenge in her ears.

"Meep", said Harry weakly.

And quite suddenly, Ron started coughing, looking like he had eaten something extremely unpleasant. Harry briefly wondered if the sausage sticking out of Ron's mouth had been poisoned. (… I told you to get your minds out of the gutter!)

"But mate, that means you know how to trick the slides to the girl's dormitories, and you never told me!"

Harry looked blankly at his best friend.

He looked at Ron and pretended to think real hard.

"You know what?" he finally stated, with a big goofy smile. "That's true."

Ron looked thunderous, ready to explode.

"Hehe, I guess I never noticed. Cool! I know how to get into the girls' dorms!"

With an animalistic roar, Ron flailed wildly with his arms in a mock attempt to grab Harry's neck and strangle him, knocking over his glass of pumpkin juice in the process. Its content flew threw the air in an elegant arch, before landing on Hermione's brand new blouse. Hermione shrieked in rage.

Harry fled the table, and ran across the Great Hall.

Soon, he reached the Slytherin table.

The dark boy who was his target groaned loudly.

"Blaise, hubby dearest!" called Harry in what seemed to be innocent fright, and jumped at Blaise.

"Pwotect me!"

Blaise sighed and resigned himself to the insane Gryffindor's so called "mercy", and smiled a crooked and tired, but very amused smile.

"Sorry _dear husband_, but you will have to take care of this yourself."

…

Silence enveloped the Great Hall.

"Did you say husband?" asked Ginny, clearly entertained.

"Yes", said Blaise exasperatedly.

Harry sniggered.

There was a collective gasp from the Gryffindor table, where Parvati Patil and Colin Creevey had fainted, Colin still snapping pictures with his camera in his unconscious state.

The first one to get over the shock – except from Ginny, who didn't even seem shocked to begin with – was Hermione, who suddenly looked very smug, despite her soaked blouse.

"Told you so!" she said in a rare bout of childishness.

Seamus also seemed to have gotten out of his paralyzed state.

"You said you didn't have a lover!" shouted he accusingly.

"I don't!" shot Harry back.

Seamus beamed. "Does that mean you're still free?"

Dean stopped staring blankly at the Slytherin table, and growling, he swatted Seamus head again.

"He's married, and I'm your boyfriend!"

Harry, too entertained by the happenings on the other side of the Great Hall, didn't even notice Blaise possessively sneaking his arms around his waist.

* * *

"So this is where you've been." 

Harry lifted his head slightly from the comfortable pillow it was lying at.

It was Ginny.

Currently, he was in the Room of Requirement, which had decided that what he really needed was a huge and dangerously comfy sofa, along with a plate of cookies, some milk, and a lot of strange comics that appeared to be from Japan. And were read from right to left, back to front instead of what he was used to. How did they come up with these things? Nevertheless, they were very amusing.

"Harry!"

"Hey, Gin."

Ginny glared at him.

"Don't you 'hey Gin' me, Harry. Why didn't you tell me? Or even Hermione and Ron for that matter!"

"Err… Because it only happened really early this morning? And I was kind of out of it after a new spell invention, if you know what I mean."

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him through narrowed eyes, as if trying to find out if he told the truth or not. As a reaction, Harry put his hands up in defence. He did not like that look.

She sighed and put her hands back at her sides, and Harry moved a little to give her some space on the sofa.

"Sorry", she said, and sat down beside him. "We were all so worried when you just didn't show up at first, but luckily you came back. We figured we shouldn't press you on the matter, so… And then… Oh Hell, Harry. How did this happen anyway?"

"How do you think it happened?"

"Harry…"

"Alright, alright! It was because I was going to grab a midnight snack."

Ginny's face paled a few shades. "You did so not say that."

"I did."

"Yeah, I guess you did. And that midnight snack was Zabini? Otherwise I fail to see your logic, Harry."

"Huh? What? No!"

"Then what?"

"…Well, I was on my way to the kitchens, when suddenly a few Bucket-kicking-Munchers and Blaise pops out from nowhere…"

"And?"

"Blaise was about to be kidnapped, Ginny, what should I have done?"

Ginny groaned. "And you say you _don't_ have a hero complex…" She took a deep breath. "So let me get this straight. In an attempt to protect Zabini, you married him."

Harry looked away distractedly. "Something like that. But it wasn't like I did it on purpose. I mean, we were running around in Hogsmead trying to find a place to hide, and the first thing we saw was… I mean, we didn't really see what it was until later, but –"

"The point, Harry?"

Harry sighed. Ginny wasn't about to let him not tell her the whole story. "We hid in a gay church-office-thing, alright?"

She merely looked confused. "So?"

"There was this priest, who had just recently moved in, and was sooo excited to marry his first customers off, and as distracted with the Voldie-fans as we were, we didn't even notice when he got our names and made us sign the contract!"

Utter. Shock.

Loud. Snort.

Laugh.

Ginny.

"Fwa-ha-ha-ha! You're screwed!"

"No, not yet", said Harry solemnly. And for some reason, this only made the red-head laugh harder.

Oh well. As long as she was happy…

* * *

Precisely at eight o'clock in the evening at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a choir of lamenting voices and shrieks of outrage was heard from the part of the part of the population that had not been at breakfast that day. 

Sundays were usually not days when you found fresh and up-to-date releases of the Daily Prophet.

Today was an exception.

After all, Harry Potter had been married.

…To a guy, which made it worse for all the girls who had saved themselves for the famous boy all their lives.

Yes, this was news.

Nevermind the resident Dark Lord slaughtering a few people here and there.

This issue was solely dedicated to the matters surrounding The-Boy-Who-Lived.

On a side note, a nurse at Saint Mungo's commented that the country should expect big Baby-Booms now that Harry Potter no longer was an eligible bachelor. People were crushed by that piece of reality, and would probably find consolation in others.

Of course, Harry Potter himself thought it all was stupid, and seeing all those words from the desperate people made him consider actually not getting divorced at all – if only to protect himself from getting molested on a daily basis when it was announced he was single again.

"Well, hubby dearest" chirped he, waving an "emergency issue" of the Daily Prophet in front of Blaise's face. "I think they found out."

"No really, what made you think such a ridiculous thing?" replied Blaise in a rare tone of gloomy sarcasm – the rarity being the gloomy part, of course. Harry could almost see the dark clouds hanging over his head.

"What crawled up your ass and –"

"You did."

"I did not! And I'm not planning to either!"

Blaise seemed to colour slightly. Why did he always do that around Harry?

Harry shrugged. It probably wasn't any of his business.

* * *

The next morning, about a hundred miles away from the famous school, two men were having breakfast, not knowing what the day had in store for them. 

"Moonyyyy!" whined Sirius Black pathetically. "I haven't heard from my favourite godson in almost two days, there must be something wrong with him!"

Remus Lupin scowled, lowering his muggle newspaper. He folded it neatly and then put it on the table.

"Sirius, you know he doesn't exactly have time to write you everyday. I mean, he isn't always writing you, and he's still alright. You can't expect him to bring you a daily report on his life."

"But Moony, he –"

Remus growled. "Stop it, nothing is going to happen. Alright? Good."

"But, Remus, I've missed so much of his life before, and remember what happened in fifth year? Remember?"

The werewolf sighed. "Yes I remember."

"See! I told you! He could be anywhere, bleeding his guts out and –"

The animagus was just about to slam his hands into the table and break some of Remus expensive porcelain, but didn't have time to finish.

"Padfoot,_ sit_!"

Sirius stilled, looking guilty. His hands were still hanging in the air.

"Listen, Harry is probably busy with quidditch or something like that."

"Prongslet playing quidditch! Oh damn, then I won't bother him. Somehow, I had forgotten that bit…"

Sirius frowned, and opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted before he started, when an owl swept in and dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet at Remus head.

The former teacher shook his head exasperatedly and took a look at the front page to see if there was anything worthy of reading.

Then he paled.

"Moony, what's up with you?" asked Sirius, confused.

Remus didn't answer. Instead he handed the paper over to his best friend, not speaking a word, but preparing himself for the angry roar he knew would come. He was not disappointed.

"HE WHAT!"

* * *

_SakeHime: Finished! But in my eyes, this chapter seems really boring and stupid. Like some kind of filler. On the other hand, there will be a surprise in the next chapter of WW! And it's not the appearance of our favourite mutt!_

_And, urr…_

_Dear Readers, just to make some things clear – I have NOT stopped writing this story, I do actually write whenever I can!_

_By the way, I really appreciate all your reviews (Couldn't even dream I'd get this many!), but all the reviews telling me to update soon are really buggering me. I still love you all, but it kills my inspiration and imagination to hear that, because it's only stressing. It's not that I don't want to update, it's that I _can't. _I would really love to be able to do it more often, but seriously, it would kill my life outside of the computer – and my brain. Sorry. (Bows and apologizes so much for the wait.) At the very least, I will _try _to update faster in the future._

* * *

OMAKE: 

"My lord, we've made a small success with him."

"Splendid! How is it?"

A very tired and full-looking Lucius Malfoy was brought in, holding one slice of pizza to his mouth.

"Do it."

Lucius looked embarrassed, and burped loudly.

It didn't please the Dark Lord.

"Who is responsible for this?" he hissed menacingly.

Twenty fingers pointed to Wormtail, who shivered.

Voldemort smiled gently.

Pettigrew wet himself.

"Wormtail? Crucio."


	5. Back from the Grave

_SakeHime: Did I mention that I love you all? I really, really do! ♥ I LOVE YOU! ♥ All of you! And MERRY CHRISTMAS! (And a happy new year!)_

For disclaimers and warnings, see chapter 1, AKA the prologue!

And also: Be warned! This story is getting a bit more (gasp!) serious now, as Harry is starting to open up to Blaise a little.

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

* * *

"HE WHAT?" screamed Sirius furiously.

Remus blanched. "Padfoot, calm down…"

"I will not! Son of Death Eater Scum! If that brat has even tried to touch my godson with his grubby paws I'll carve his intestines out with a rusty spoon!"

"Padfoot, it probably isn't what you think…"

"_That's it! _I'm heading there _right_ now!"

"_Padfoot!"_

In a whirl of smoke and floo powder, Sirius was gone.

* * *

Ginny didn't know how it had started. And she most certainly had not wanted things to go as wrong as they did. But one thing she knew – not to trust any more blasted books, even if she had picked them up herself!

A pounding ache had sneaked its way into her head.

And she had thought Harry had gotten himself into a deep mess. …Like she was the one to talk.

In front of her, a smoky shape had started to solidify.

"Hello", it said a bit confusedly.

Ginny's jaw hit the floor.

* * *

Harry could not believe the stupidity of some of his fans. He had no wand for the moment – to hell with the Voldie-kins-can't-hurt-me-because-I-have-his-brother-wand-crap – so naturally he needed to buy a new one. But of course, it didn't bother his fans to hear that he was completely defenceless for now. He could do wandless magic after all!

…Not.

Old Moldy Shorts could barge in on him in the shower or something, and he, the boy-who-lived, would be able to do about as much as a newborn kitten. Nothing, that is – at least not without being fined two-thousand galleons for being an unregistered animagus. And he'd probably slip on the wet floor and die anyway – or something equally ungraceful.

As for now, all he could was bask in the irritation of Blaise – directed at Harry, by the way – and wait for the stupid head master to pull his head out of his ass and grant him permission to go to Diagon Alley and get a new wand.

When Harry told the old senile fart that he needed a new one, those blue eyes of his only twinkled brightly and Harry was told that perhaps he didn't need a wand for now. After all, Albus preferred him not cursing all his fan girls and fan boys because they still were throwing themselves at his feet, and he was within the safe walls of Hogwarts, so nothing bad could happen.

Harry spent a few minutes coughing "Quirell", "Troll", "Ickle Voldie-kins", "Barty Junior", "Death Munchers" and "Sadistic Human Bats from The Dungeons of Doom" after the last part. Then, after a moment of thought, he also added. "Fluffy".

Albus Dumbledore's cursed eye-twinkling didn't dim one bit, even if his face paled a little.

"Oh, are you sick, my dear boy? I insist you go see Madame Pomfrey."

Then he was firmly thrown out of the office.

A string of curses slipped out of his mouth, and Blaise growled menacingly at Harry.

"Wash your mouth!"

It was a great opportunity, Harry thought, too good to pass up. So he directed his big, green and sorrowful eyes at Blaise, like he had seen those people do in his Japanese comics.

"Already been there, already done that", cried he dramatically, making his husband half-choke on his own tongue.  
"My dear aunt, bless her soul, always made me wash my mouth with soap when I was but a little child – all the memories… I thought I had left them behind by now, but alas…"

The dark boy almost looked worried.

Harry sniggered inwardly. His eyes started to tear, and he weakly said:

"But alas, some wounds never heal."

"Harry, I'm sorry…"

"I don't need your pity!"

One lone tear ran down Harry's cheek.

Blaise threw a loose punch at him with a snort.

"Now you're just talking crap. That tear is as fake as Gilderoy Lockheart. And I doubt your loving relatives would do that to you. You're the Boy-who-lived after all..."

* * *

"…You're the Boy-who-lived after all…"

As soon as Blaise uttered those words, he regretted it.

His husband's mouth had thinned into a firm line.

"Not that I mind you punching me for faking tear, but other than that, you honestly don't know what you're talking about", said Harry.

There was a hard edge in his voice that Blaise didn't quite like. He was so used to the other teenager's easy-going, insane personality by now, that it felt very uncomfortable to encounter the more serious side of it now.

Then, there was of course the issue of admitting that perhaps Blaise had been very wrong about Harry all along. It was simply hard to realize that Blaise wasn't the only one whose life outside of Hogwarts was hard to live.

"Were they really that bad?" asked he quietly.

For a long while, Harry didn't say anything. But then, with a faraway look in his eyes, he replied:

"Yeah. You know, my aunt never even liked me…"

Blaise nodded, beginning to understand where this was going.

"…Still, I guess that was better than how Uncle Vernon and Dudley acted towards me. They really hated me."

Harry glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

"When I was little, I used to run away all the time. I just couldn't understand why my relatives didn't love me, all I knew was that they didn't and wouldn't, no matter what I did. So I thought I'd relieve them of their burden, but it was never any use. I'd find myself back at their house straight away, and I never understood how it happened. Now, of course, I know…"

Blaise throat had dried up very quickly when Harry told him he used to try to run away from his family. It didn't sound pleasant.

"Why?" asked he hoarsely. "Why didn't it work?"

"Because Dumbledore already had started to meddle with my life back then. I researched a lot of spells after the end of the fifth year. It turned out he had put a home-binding spell on me before dumping me in that hell. As soon as I fell asleep somewhere, I'd wake up in my cupboard again, with only some spiders as company. Naturally, he also had a tracking spell on me, just in case my Aunt and Uncle ever wanted to move away from Surrey."

"…But why was he that desperate for you to stay with those people?" wondered Blaise.

"… Do you know about Blood Wards?"

"I've heard some about them. Apparently, they're supposed to be based on a person's closest family or friend's sacrifice to keep the person safe as long as he or she stays at home."

"Exactly. But there's just one problem with that kind of wards…"

Comprehension dawned on Blaise.

"No!" he almost shouted.

"They don't protect the person from his own family", said Harry bitterly. "Sure, the family can't repeatedly beat him or anything, but they can abuse him emotionally, and punish him by either starving him or give him chores. And the whole system doesn't prevent them from slapping or punching the person when they feel they have a really valid reason for it. After all, Blood Wards were thought up even before Merlin. It's very old magic, and back then, they didn't think twice about hitting a child if it was for the sake of raising it properly. There's, however, a fatal flaw to that too. The wards can't sense malicious intent, unless it's brought up to a certain level and acted upon. Basically, if my uncle would have punched me once with his most malicious intent for what he considered a valid reason, the system wouldn't react. If he started beating me for breathing the same air as him, it would."

Blaise chose not to comment on how stupid it seemed, or offer any pity. He didn't think Harry would like it.

"Damn, you should have been a Ravenclaw", said he.

"Slytherin, actually. The hat almost put me there…"

"IT WHAT?"

That was the end of that discussion.

* * *

Harry snickered for the twenty-ninth time that afternoon.

"There's no way the hat would try to put you in Slytherin!" cried Blaise. "You're insanity would need a house of its own, for fuck's sake!"

Dressed in a ridiculous, pointy and very _pink _hat and nicely matching boots and pants, the dark-skinned boy stood on a wooden stool, trying to ignore that Harry was poking him with his wand – not Harry's, since that one had been snapped.

"_And besides, what is it with you and the colour pink_?" hissed he, although he sounded more exasperated than angry.

"I'm open minded", replied Harry with a smug look on his face.

"Right. At least give me another colour!"

"What, you don't like it?" Harry pouted.

Blaise seemed to choke on his own tongue and Harry wondered why he had never seen the other teenager act so strangely before they met – or rather before they accidentally got married.

"I can handle anything but pink", sputtered the boy.

"You're no fun."

Harry waved Blaise's wand with another pout, and the other boy's outfit turned black.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Remind me of why we're doing this again."

"Because I need a wand, and Dumbledore won't let me out of Hogwarts."

"So therefore, we're disguising ourselves as… this?"

"Yeap. It wouldn't be very good if we got recognized as soon as we'd sneaked out of the castle now, would it?" grinned Harry.

"I suppose you're right, but…"

"Of course I am! Hey, here, take these!"

He handed Blaise a black leather coat and shades to go with his outfit. Then, he transfigured the pointy hat into something less… ridiculous.

"Nice!"

He nodded, content with his work, and then began to change out of his own clothes.

Blaise gave a strangely strangled "meep!" and quickly turned around so that he wouldn't see anything.

"Hey!" said Harry, offended. "No need to act like you're just about to see your grandmother naked, I'm actually quite a handsome guy!"

It was barely audible, but Harry thought he heard Blaise say something along the lines of "That was what I was afraid of…"

Harry blinked.

…Oh.

So that was it…?

He smirked, and proceeded to strip further, making sure he took his time.

But soon, he pushed his little discovery out of his mind in favour of ogling himself in the mirror (which whistled in appreciation) and putting his favourite mafia costume on, along with a big, green scarf.

He was just a slight bit narcissistic.

* * *

Padfoot was not a happy dog. His pup had obviously been abducted by a slimy Slytherin, and who knew what could have happened to him? What if he had been deflowered by the dungeon boy? What if had been tortured? What if he had been forced to – uh, never mind…

It never once crossed Sirius mind, that it might have been an honest accident, and that Harry still might be safe. Of course, it also hadn't crossed the rest of the wizarding population's minds. After all, who got married by an accident? A mishap like that had not happened since… well, it hadn't, really. He thought so, anyway.

And so, there he was, prowling the corridors of Hogwarts in his dog form, growling at innocent first-years and scaring the pure bloods by jumping out of shadows when they least suspected it. They always screamed something along the lines of:

"Sweet Merlin, it's the Grim! I'm going to diiiiiiieee!"

… And then proceeded to jump around in tears.

Even if it would have been funny to see under normal circumstances, Sirius didn't as much as twitch.

He growled.

Now, where was that headmaster's office again?

It was quite embarrassing, but it seemed that he, for the first time in his life, he had gotten lost at Hogwarts.

Distractedly, he sniffed the air.

Ooh, was that the wonderful scent of Mrs. Norris, ready to be hunted?

No, no! Don't get distracted now, Sirius, your godson might be in serious danger!

…But… It was Mrs. Norris. It was Mrs. Norris – an opportunity to good to pass up…

Padfoot barked happily, all thoughts of the pup in danger pushed back to a dark corner of his mind.

* * *

Luckily for Harry and Blaise, the corridors seemed to be pretty empty by the time they were finished with all the things they needed – they even had alibis now (that is, they spent an entire hour in one of the closets outside of the Slytherin common room, and made sure to be very loud – making the Slytherins believe the married couple needed some "private bonding time"), and they even had a bag of food with them, courtesy of Dobby, of course.

And so, there they were, just outside of one of the hidden passages out of the castle, hiding underneath Harry's invisibility cloak to make sure they went unseen.

"Clear?" asked Harry.

"Clear", Blaise confirmed, feeling a bit upset after the show Harry had given him – it seemed so much like the boy was doing it on purpose!

"Good, now let's go!"

"Yeah, yeah…" grumbled Blaise.

Then they proceeded to sneakily open the passage, step inside and then close it behind them.

"Was all that really necessary?" wondered the darker of the two boys.

Harry grinned. "Yuppers!" said he and took of in a quick sprint before his husband had a chance to say anything else.

Blaise groaned. This was going to be a long evening…

Not to mention the day after.

Dear Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Ginny was not exactly the happiest person in the world at the moment. Her state was actually quite far from happiness. She was practically a nervous wreck, hadn't slept for at least twenty-four hours – and where the hell was Harry when she needed to talk to him…?!

With legs like jelly, she stumbled all the way down from the headmaster's office to the Great Hall – Dumbledore had not been present in his office. Of course, she had remembered then. It was supper time, and so it wasn't very strange for him to not be there…

With her lack of sleep, it didn't exactly hit her that going to the Great Hall with her… problem… was not the best solution. It seemed like her brain had been fried by shock and lack of sleep.

"Um, Ginny, are you sure this is a good idea…?" asked the person beside her and fidgeted nervously as she stumbled on.

"Must find Dumbledore", murmured Ginny tiredly and not really listening.

The person sighed and looked around anxiously.

"Look, Ginny…"

"Later. Let's find Dumbledore first…"

Finally the pair reached their destination.

Ginny took a couple of last, wobbling steps before throwing the doors to the Great Hall open.

A collective gasp went through the crowd gathered there.

"Headmaster Dumbledore", croaked Ginny.

Only then did it finally hit her what a really dumb idea it was to bring this matter into such a crowded area.

It was quite gratefully that she finally fainted.

Of course, that left the figure that came with her in a very uncomfortable position.

"Um, hi…" said he awkwardly.

* * *

Supper had started out alright, according to Severus Snape, considering the big shock he had received recently. The headmaster had only had a couple of announcements to make, none of them very important, and the Potter brat was nowhere to be seen. Neither was his Slytherin husband, when he thought about it, but that was not necessarily anything to worry about. A completely Potter-free meal was always enjoyable for Snape. And it was definitely a plus that all the students were too subdued to even talk much at all.

No doubt, that was also because of Potter, thought Snape and scowled darkly, immediately forgetting his good mood.

Nothing caused by Potter could possibly be good. …Even if it was complete and utter silence.

Besides, it was like everybody was waiting for something to happen.

And it did.

Just on cue, as he was about to lift a spoonful of soup to his mouth, the doors at the other end of the hall were forcefully swung open, and a large murmur of shock went through the big room.

There stood Ginny Weasley, and she wasn't alone. Not even one meter away from her, stood a boy, who actually was known to be…

…Dead.

"Headmaster Dumbledore", he heard the girl say. Then she fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Um, hi…" said the boy.

Somehow, Severus felt rather calm about it.

To him, it was a bigger shock that Potter had actually married a Slytherin – in other words, nothing could surprise him anymore.

And so, he continued to eat his soup.

* * *

One Mister Ronald Weasley, on the other hand, felt very confused.

His sister had just brought a very much dead person to the Hall and fainted before explaining anything.

He was only vaguely aware of the fact that both the headmaster and his good friend Hermione had stood up.

"If this is a prank, then it is not very funny", chided Dumbledore the person sternly.

"Oh, it's not a joke, believe me", murmured the boy silently.

Hermione looked furious.

"Yeah, right!" she shouted. "We'll see about that!"

She bent down quickly, and pulled a strange object out of her bag, and then she threw it at the supposedly dead person with a speed no one had ever known her to posses. Silvery smoke erupted around the boy, who coughed a bit and then stood so still he could have been a statue.

"What was that?" asked Ron dazedly.

Hermione blushed brightly…

"Veritaserum-bomb" said she, embarrassed. "I bought it from the twins…"

"Wha…?"

"Nevermind, Ron. You there! What is your name?" she shouted angrily at the boy.

His eyes glazed over, and without a second of hesitation, he answered he question:

"Cedric Diggory."

Again, the Hall became deadly silent.

Hermione sank back down into her chair. Her face had paled at least a dozen of shades.

The mist in Ron's head seemed to clear a little, the happenings of the last minutes becoming a bit clearer to him. He felt the food he had been chewing fall out of his mouth, as his jaw dropped.

And suddenly a loud slurp was heard, breaking the silence.

Ron turned around, away from the apparently-not-so-dead boy to see where the sound came from. To his great distaste, it came from his Potions Professor.

Severus Snape was sitting down, not seeming to react to the absurd situation at all. Repeated times, he filled his spoon with soup and lifted it to his mouth, before saying anything at all. Even the headmaster stared at the teacher now, not uttering one word.

A few seconds later, Snape dropped his spoon at the table, and dried his mouth with a napkin.

Then he smiled.

The students held their breath.

"Mr. Diggory. Detention. Three months."

"Wha…?" said Ron and Cedric as one.

"And", continued the Potions Master silkily – and strangely happily –, "for disturbing supper, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, I will have to take fifty points each."

Ron started feeling a bit upset even before the meaning of the greasy bat's words settled into his mind.

And then, when he had fully processed them, he became very upset. He stood up with an angry roar.

"_YOU WHAT!"_

* * *

_SakeHime: Cedric Diggory is back from the Grave! What will happen now?_

_And OMG, cute, insane Harry has an ANGSTY side! Why, oh why? …Because he need a reason to act insane. I don't think he'd act like that if he hadn't been through some really hard things in his life…And also, I'm not a great fan of Dumbledore-bashing, but I also need someone responsible for Harry's pain, and thus old Dumbles is playing the bad-guy almost as much as Voldemort. He's simply the most suitable for the job. And you can't like all the characters in a story, right?_

_The next chapter will be about Harry's and Blaise's little trip to Diagon Alley! And no, you're not going to find out more about Sirius until then!_

* * *

_OMAKE:_

"_M-my Lord", snivelled Wormtail pathetically._

_The Dark Lord Voldemort looked up from his game of Go with his most loyal follower – Lucius Malfoy. (His particular reason for choosing that game was the lack of a need to speak, seeing as his loyal follower had been cursed to sing those horrible, horrible muggle songs every time he opened his mouth.)_

"_What?" asked the fearsome dark lord fearsomely with a hint of irritation in his fearsome voice. "Didn't I specifically tell you not to bother me right now?"_

"_Y-yes, my lord, b-but..."_

"_What? Spit it out!"_

"_It seems th-that Diggory boy i-is alive a-again…"_

_Voldemort pursed his lips in disgust._

"_I see. Wormtail. Crucio!"_

_As Pettigrew writhed on the floor in pain._

_McNair who had been watching their game looked at the rat animagus curiously._

"_My Lord, isn't that getting a bit old now?" asked he. "Constantly cursing him with the Cruciatus… It's like reading the same joke every day."_

_The Dark Lord looked mildly displeased._

"_Normally you would be gravely punished for such insolence. But as you do have a point, you will not be harmed this time."_

_McNair bowed his head in respect and Voldemort removed the pain curse from the trembling man on the floor._

"_Thank you my lord", cried Pettigrew, scrambling closer to the Dark Lord to kiss the hem of his robe. _

"_Now… what shall we do then?" mused Voldemort._

_Lucius Malfoy grinned viciously from his side of the Go board._

"_Oh, I know." The Lord smiled evilly and lifted his wand. "Avada Ke–"_

_Peter Pettigrew squeaked in fright and fainted with a loud thud._

"…_Pathetic."_

_Lucius and McNair nodded._

"_He really can't take a joke."_


	6. Sirius Trouble

A/N: (still loves you all) ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ (Even though she a late updater. Really sorry, but the last couple of months I've had have been straight from hell, I swear. And they caused me to have the Writer-Block-of-Doom. (Which seem to have resulted in making this chapter more serious… Sirius! Haha. ((gets shot)) ...) But I'll spare you the details.

...That's exactly why I don't like people bugging me about me not updating, since it only stresses me more.)

For warnings, disclaimers and so on, read 'em in the prologue if you need 'em. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter Five:**

Harry and Blaise managed to sneak out of the castle quite easily, and borrow the floo in one of the houses with little more trouble. That was how they found themselves outside of the Leaky Cauldron, watching the people buzz by.

What worried Harry was that a frighteningly high number of the people on the street were wearing t-shirts that said things like "Screw Zabini! …Or no… On second thought I'd rather have Potter!" and "I love Harry Potter" and "I'd accept it if Zabini was Italian."

Blaise snorted at the sight of the last one. "But I am part Italian…" he murmured.

Harry's personal favourite was: "Support Gay Love! Every Rule has its Exception – this Rule's Exception is the Potter-Zabini Marriage!" …Mostly because it made no sense or whatsoever.

…Blaise liked another one that said "Blairry is Hot" better.

Nevermind that most of the wizarding population normally was completely clueless about muggle fashions. Where had the robes gone?

Beside him, Harry sighed deeply and looked tired.

"I don't want to think about what would have happened if we hadn't disguised ourselves", said he, and Blaise had to agree.

"So, Harry…"

"Yeah?"

"What are you going to do about your fans out there?"

To his great surprise, Harry didn't even grimace, but gave an evil grin – which made him look every bit the insane man he was, with his big, round sunglasses, his so called "mafia-hat" and the grey scarf draped around his shoulders.

…Then he took one big breath.

Blaise gasped, covering his ears – just in case.

…And Harry let out a high-pitched, girlish shriek.

"Oh. My. GOD!! It's Harry Potter! It's him, right, Juan!"

_Juan?_

Blaise snorted and stroked his fake moustache – Harry had added it just as they got out of the secret passage.

Just then, Harry leant closer to Blaise, making him blush several different shades of black-ish pink.

…Was there even such a colour? ...If not, then Blaise had just invented it.

"Please wave your wand around a little and make an illusion of me or something!" Harry whispered quickly.

Blaise complied with his request without batting an eye-lash. It _would_ be rather good not to be stampeded by frantic fans for "lying" about the boy-who-just-was-clearly-insane-and-just-would-not-bloody-die after all.

"It sure looks like that, _Fernando_, it sure does", he said in an eccentric voice, as chaos broke loose.

Harry snickered.

Blaise raised an elegant eyebrow and offered the troublemaker his arm, which he took with grace.

"Shall we?"

"Why yes, kind sir Juan."

So they began their shopping without any more trouble, just as an illusion of Harry Potter ran around the corner to flee from the crowd.

Harry took great delight in making Blaise make his copy scream loudly – an outdrawn "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" – Just like they always did in movies.

* * *

Back at Hogwarts, the biggest mess since Cornelius Fudge became the Minister of Magic could be seen. The Four Houses were in absolute and utter chaos.

The Hufflepuffs were torn between their loyalty for one of their own and their horror of all things un-dead that weren't plants.

The Ravenclaws chattered excitedly amongst themselves, tempted to kidnap the not-so-dead Hufflepuff and perform horrible experiments on him. Professor Flitwick didn't share their excitement though, and seemed extremely horrified instead.

The Gryffindors just said wide-eyed and open-mouthed at their table frozen in their movements, except from Colin Creevey who had yet again fainted and still continued to take pictures with his camera in his unconscious state – and Seamus Finnegan, who was busy staring at the living dead with a contemplative look on his face.

The Slytherins didn't seem as surprised at the appearance of one supposedly very dead Cedric Diggory as appreciative of the Head of their House's un-faced expressions as he calmly slurped his soup down.

At the Professors' Table, things didn't seem much better. As mentioned earlier, Professor Flitwick seemed very horrified, and had fallen of his chair with a loud squeak and then promptly fainted, and Professor Snape was ignoring his surroundings in favour of his soup – after all soup was almost like a potion right? If one had to have those annoying house elves at the castle, you could at least convince yourself that they were bearable for at least one reason … which, Snape had decided, was… soup.

Headmaster Dumbledore on the other hand, looked mildly traumatized at the display of a result that very clearly must had come from the Dark Arts. He was murmuring to himself about wool socks, apparently trying to sooth himself. Beside him, Minerva McGonagall was altering between hissing and scolding the Weasleys for bringing so much trouble into the school, and trying to unsuccessfully sooth the Headmaster.

Professor Sprout seemed to be frozen on the spot, much like the Gryffindors at their table.

And in the middle of the Great Hall, stood Cedric Diggory, lost and confused.

"Hmm", said Seamus, looking the dead person up and down appreciatively.

Dean unfroze quickly, and swatted his head angrily.

"Ow!" yelped Seamus, and Dean glared at him. He pouted. "Okay, okay, I get it… No ogling un-dead people."

Just when no one thought it could get messier, a large, shaggy dog burst into the Hall, swiftly running up to the Teachers' table. A second later a furious-looking man stood where the dog had been – the most fear man the wizarding world knew aside from Voldemort, by the way – and roared angrily at both the Headmaster and Snape.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY GODSON, AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM, YOU DISGUSTING, SLIMY, IDIOT SLYTHERIN BASTARDS?"

"Hey, Dean, dearest, what about insane criminals?" mumbled Seamus.

His boyfriend swatted his head again.

* * *

In their disguises, Harry and Blaise had an easy time getting around without being recognized. It didn't take them much time to get their money out of their vaults, and nothing really happened afterwards either, with the exception of being stared at by the goblins. Harry guessed they knew who he was and wondered about the outfit, so he shrugged it off. His companion seemed a bit unnerved though.

They also managed to get to Ollivander's without any incidents.

And there they were, standing at the door, wondering whether they should go inside and be senselessly scared to death by the creepy man that owned the shop or stay outside until the shopkeeper noticed. Harry didn't know about Blaise, but he himself preferred the latter.

It shouldn't take too long, after all. That shop keeper was eerily observant…

He shuddered. If it hadn't been for his own bloody stupidity he wouldn't even have _needed_ to be here. But no! He just had to freaking trip and snap his own wand.

It was in a darkened mood he stood there with his husband and waited. And about his husband…

Harry wondered what would become of them now. They were married with no decent chance of divorce – and Harry was number one on Voldemort's hit-list, while Blaise was a Slytherin; those facts alone were enough to put them both in the risk zone. It wasn't that Harry didn't like Blaise or that he wouldn't risk a couple of things to keep him safe…

…It was just… that things were bound to get nasty very soon.

Many rumours had been flying around Blaise and his family circumstances for as long as he could remember since first going to Hogwarts, and they weren't very pleasant. Of course, back then he had shrugged them off as something that was usual for a slimy Slytherin. But now, he wasn't so sure.

His husband's mother had effectively killed off at least seven rich husbands for their wealth if the rumours were anything to go by. If she could gain Voldemort's favour by pressuring her son into taking the task to find Harry's weaknesses, then they were out for more than just a little trouble.

And if Blaise protested against it… Harry didn't want to think about it.

…It was also very likely that he would, if it came down to it – at least if Harry was correct in his assumptions that Blaise wasn't overly fond of his family.

Uneasily, he glanced at the dark boy beside him. Blaise gave him a questioning look, apparently not liking the brooding expression on Harry's face.

"What's eating you, Harry?" he asked, and his dark, smooth voice sent shivers down Harry's spine.

For a moment, Harry felt guilt flash briefly over his face – he wasn't about to tell Blaise the truth and make him worry if he could help it, but he didn't exactly like lying to a friend. He didn't care that Blaise was smart enough to figure all this out by himself, but if he hadn't… well, Harry wasn't about to put more dark thoughts into his head than necessary. So he quickly squashed that feeling, and opened his mouth to answer, reply that it was nothing at all.

Luckily, he never got so far. Before even one word had been uttered, Mr. Ollivander's voice drifted through the door, which they now realized had been slightly open the entire time they had been standing there.

"Come inside, gentlemen", beckoned the man. "I see no point in having you waiting outside when you could be inside, quite possibly making a very profitable deal with myself."

It struck Harry as odd and very out of character, the way the man was talking. But he realized that at least a couple of years had passed since he last visited the shop, which could have distorted his memory of the man somewhat. And even then, he couldn't have been sure that what he had seen was the shop keeper's true face. People were more three-dimensional than that… Especially men like Ollivander, who without a single doubt was very old, much older than he looked.

Ollivander chuckled dryly, as if he had read Harry's thoughts.

"Now, come inside. Some things are not meant to be seen by prying eyes, Mr… _Fernando_, Mr… Juan."

Harry shivered. It was eerie how the man seemed to know everything.

"Oh, but I do", said Ollivander, causing both Harry and Blaise to jump. Apparently, they had both thought the same thing.

* * *

"Sirius Black", murmured McGonagall, while all the members of the Order of the Phoenix present in the Great Hall were busy stunning the people who weren't members and obliviating them. "What are you doing here?"

"What's he doing out of prison!" shouted a Slytherin student who had yet to be stunned and obliviated. McGonagall quickly fired a spell that student too to remedy that.

"Actually, I think I gave you a question before", seethed the dog animagus. "I asked where the fuck my godson is, I believe. And while I'm at it, I want to ask why he's married to a bloody, sneaky, cowardly, bastard, fucking, stupid, sodding, slimy, dirty, bloody –"

"Um, Mr. Black? You used 'bloody' twice…" said Cedric helpfully.

"Thanks, kid… as I was saying; a bloody, sneaky, cowardly, bastard, fucking, stupid, harlot, sodding, slimy, dirty, annoying, filthy, landlubber –"

"Landlubber?"

"– idiotic, moronic, inbreeded, power-hungry, greedy, ugly, spiteful, humour-denying, prank-hating, animal-killing, snake-loving, smelly, racist, foolish… Hey, by the way, aren't you supposed to be dead, kid?"

"Yeah, I thought so too", shrugged Cedric helplessly. "But apparently Ginny Weasley revived me."

"That's cool… where was I? Oh yeah… foolish, fly-bitten, calumnious –"

"I didn't even know he knew such a word. That's advanced for Black", commented Snape, whose only reason for not jumping at the escaped convict's throat yet was that he still hadn't finished his soup.

"Shut up, Snape!" growled Sirius. "… Calumnious, warped, ignorant, superficial, shallow, stinky, pain in the ass, onion-eyed –"

"Onion-eyed?"

"– dribbling, faint-hearted, fat-kidneyed, villainous, double-chinned, blasted, boil-brained, dumb BLOODY FUCKING SLYTHERIN!"

"Done now, Mr. Black?"

"Yes. And your answer?" If glares could kill, the occupants of the Professors' table would all be goners by now.

"It was an accident", supplied Snape, his intentions not helpful at all. Then he threw his last spoonful of soup into Sirius' face. "Haha, take that! It' revenge!" he shouted gleefully, causing those who weren't stunned already to faint from the sheer oddness of seeing him so out of character.

* * *

"Um… Mister Ollivander?"

"Yes, Mr. Zabini?"

"Is that thing over there –"

"From a giant magical octopus, yes. Very rare. Their eyes and the ink have many magical properties. It's a pity the finder refused to sell me its whole body."

Blaise shivered. Harry looked strangely happy and commented on how he didn't even know octopuses had eyes.

They were standing in another section in the shop, which apparently was a secret if you asked Ollivander, and it _reeked_ of danger to Blaise. There were so many magical things in there, he was getting dizzy. Never had he thought there was a place where the magic was more dense and concentrated than in Hogwarts, but since he was standing in the middle of the proof of that fact he now had to believe it. It could be the safest place in the world, but to Blaise it seemed like the most dangerous.

But he kept it to himself, as he was not about to explain to Harry just _how_ he could feel all of this. It was Blaise's own secret. Plus, he doubted Ollivander would let anything happen to them in his very own shop – it would be bad for its reputation id someone managed to find out where the two boys had last been before their death.

Yes, he was safe.

The old man smiled knowingly at him, with a barely noticeable sadistic glint in his eyes.

Blaise shivered again.

And Harry seemed to be having the time of his life, looking at all the things in there and trying to find his wand ingredients.

Well, he seemed to be absolutely fine on his own, so Blaise slowly backed away from the whole spectacle, his eyes sweeping all over the place until he found a chair in a corner that he deemed somewhat safe.

About an hour later, it seemed Harry had literally stumbled over his first ingredient, knocking over a few bottles of unidentifiable liquids in the process.

Blaise had a hard time trying not to laugh.

Llama spittle.

His husband looked mildly harassed.

"But I wanted something_ cool_!" he exclaimed, and Blaise had to bite his knuckles not to start giggling – _that_ would be pure humiliation. Boys didn't giggle. They simply weren't supposed to in his opinion.

When Ollivander started preaching about not underestimating llama spittle, he couldn't help himself anymore. He started howling with laughter, causing Harry to toss him a very sour look.

"It's not that funny…" he grumbled.

"Was too!" said Blaise, barely containing his mirth enough to say it. Then he pointed at Ollivander, who was chuckling discretely, hiding in the shadows. "Even _he_ thought it was funny!"

After that little episode, it took Harry and the shopkeeper three more hours to find the rest of the wand ingredients, and Blaise was bored out of his mind.

The things he did for his husband…

But it _was_ funny in the end, especially since the rest of the ingredients turned out to be pixie wood – which had a tendency to bite people even after it was cut down and used – and two more things, since Harry had begged with his best puppy-eyed look for a spare wand. It wasn't exactly cheap, but probably worth it.

The spare wand would be made out of Absolute Vodka and holly.

Blaise fell out of his chair because he laughed so much. And Harry gave him the finger more times than he had fingers in return for it.

Not much later, they both walked out of the shop, much, much poorer, and much, much happier.

Or at least Blaise did.

* * *

Late in the evening, when the newlyweds came back to Hogwarts, their situation had been reversed. Now, Blaise was sulking, and Harry was happily skipping.

Why?

Because Harry had gotten decidedly wand-happy now that he had two new ones, and none of them were registered in the Ministry's records.

Oddly shaped and coloured balloons were now floating around all over Diagon Alley. Knockturn Alley had been invaded by a hoard of walking teddy-bears. Hugs all around!

…All courtesy of Harry, of course.

Not that those who were busy trying to clean the mess knew that. He could get sued, after all, so he had carefully hidden his tracks.

Oh, and he had bought an extremely cute hat for Blaise too! It was pink, sparkly and had bunny ears and lots and lots of ribbons.

Too bad the dark boy didn't seem to appreciate the gesture.

They just rounded a corner, on the way to the Slytherin common room, when they ran into Ginny.

She looked like hell, quite frankly, and Harry immediately told her so. The girl had dark circles under her eyes, and her flaming red hair was standing in every direction.

"Harry! I'm so glad to see you", she said, throwing her arms around him, not minding his comment at all.

When he glanced at Blaise, the boy looked half murderous, half worried, which was a very odd and scary combination.

"What's this about?" he asked Ginny softly, patting her head awkwardly.

She burst into tears and hiccupped.

"Well, everything's so wrong right now! And Sirius is here… He's on the prowl, looking for both you and Z-Zabini!"

Harry went cold.

"You know what, Blaisie-boy? We need a vacation. Badly. In fact, I think we shall take it right now. Call it a honeymoon if you want to. But we're going."

"Err… okay? … Wait. Sirius? Sirius Black!"

"Yeah, that one. We need to go."

"Fine by me! I value my life!"

"Harry, take me too! Please, I'm in a lot of trouble right now!"

"Why? Sirius likes you, you shouldn't be worried. Blaise and I, on the other hand…"

Ginny's lower lip trembled. "Harry, that's not the only thing…"

"Then what is it?" grumbled Harry.

"Well…"

"Yes?"

He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor.

"It's about … you know…"

"No, I don't."

"Well…" she fidgeted nervously.

Harry was getting tired of this.

"Cedric Diggory", she said, finally.

"What?"

"I… I sort of… woke him from the dead."

"Oh, so that was it."

It took a minute for the phrase to fully sink in.

_Oh Bloody Fucking Hell and Bunny Slippers of Merlin._

"YOU WHAT?"

* * *

OMAKE:

"_It is done, my Lord. We managed to set up a__ magical listening system in the Gryffindor Dorm without a hitch. We can now find out Potter's plans and weaknesses without any personal dangers."_

"_Good", hissed Voldemort maliciously. "I hope you won't disssssapoint me again, Wormtail…"_

_The rat animagus whimpered. "No, my lord."_

_The snake-man nodded and made a gesture towards a big, black box with a lot of buttons on it. _

"_Do it, my faithful ssssservant…" he said to the Death Eater who stood the closest to it._

"_Yes, my Lord!" he said, and pressed the biggest button on the box, and suddenly some very loud voices were heard, along with groans and moans that suggested some very private and pleasurable things were done in the Gryffindor Tower._

"Oh Dean, yes! Yes! Ooh, right there! Yes! Harder! I-I s-swear I won't ever have a… a… d-dream of buggering a c-convicted murderer again! Mm, right there! I don't e-even know why I h-had them to begin with! ♥"

"Good! …Fuck, Seamus…!"

"God, yes! ♥"

"I like it when you call me God, Seamus! Say it again! ♥"

"Nngh… God, Dean! ♥"

_Ash-faced, the Dark Lord turned to his faithful Death Eaters,__ but they all pointed to Peter Pettigrew before he even got to ask them who was responsible. He sighed._

"_It's getting very old now, isn't it, Wormtail? Oh well… Crucio."_


End file.
